Mia Kirkby Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Manchester

So, findin’ a prossie, right? Ain’t no walk in Rivendell. You’re dodgin’ creeps, sketchy alleys—makes me wanna yell, “Fool of a Took!” at every shady corner. Back in the day, medieval times even, they had “stewhouses”—brothels run by nuns, can ya believe it? Nuns! Pimpin’ on the sly—history’s nuts! Made me laugh ‘til I choked on me pipe-weed. Imagine that in *Tropical Malady*—the jungle beast turnin’ tricks, ha!

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So, I finally get to the market, and it’s buzzing. I set up my little sharpener stand, all ready to go. I’m thinkin’, “Today’s the day! Gonna sharpen everything in sight!” But then, this kid runs up to me, right? He’s got a pair of scissors that look like they’ve been through a war. I mean, they were practically begging for mercy. I’m like, “Mate, what happened to these?” He just shrugs and says, “Mum said I could cut stuff.” Kids, man.

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